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BY MAN CAME DEATH 

A REVERIE 



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GEO. F. crook: 

PRINTER 
30 MUSIC HALL, BOSTON 



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A. 



BY MAN CAME DEATH 






A REVERIE 



By GEORGE B. PERRY 



How man afflicts his kind 
And feebly storms the gate of Heaven with prayer 
Begging deliverance from his own right hand 



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BOSTON 

GEO. F. CROOK, 30 MUSIC HALL 

1886 



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BY MAN CAME DEATH 



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For since by man came death . . . 
Even so in Christ shall all be made alive 



STOOD upon a crowded street at noon, 
And watched the many passing to and fro, 
Seeking, at first — if haply I might find 
Some one among the many thousand near — 
Some friendly face amid the thronging mass. 
A feeble hope, as I, a stranger, stood 
Amid the crowding city folk, who poured 
In ceaseless flow along the busy street ; 
Until the sense of utter solitude. 
Which comes to those who find no friendly face 
Amid the aggregations of their kind. 
Buried my fancy in its bitter tide. 

But soon the sense of loneliness had passed, 
As watching, still, the faces as they neared, 
I raised an ideal world, investing each 
With some emotion from my fancy sketched: 



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Here marking those on business intent, 

And those who seemed to pass the idle hour 

In gazing at the sight of tempting wares ; 

Or those, with listless feet, who moved along 

As careless where the tide should bear them next ; 

Or some who found the bright day far too short 

To hold the sum of all their pleasures in. 

And, musing thus, I saw an one approach 

Whose face grew pale with sudden rack of fear: 

I saw him stagger, raise his hands to Heaven 

In mute appeal, then fall upon the earth! 

Then turned I, and, with others, raised him up. 

And saw the eyes with agony upturned, 

x\nd heard the groan that tells of fearful pain. 

The tide of folk here stayed and gathered round. 
With pitying glances at the livid face. 
Till some one whispered : 

" 'T is the fearful plague; 
Hence let us fly, ere we become hke this! " 

And at the timorous words the people fled. 
And I was left alone upon the path, 
Pillowing the stranger's head upon my knees. 
And vainly striving for the means to soothe 
The awful pain that racked his feeble frame. 



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As thus engaged, one came and knelt by me, 
And took the sufferer's hand within his own ; 
Pressing the other on his aching brow. 
And soothing him with words of love and care 
That brought sweet comfort to the stricken man 
And kindled grateful light in his poor eyes: 
Till tardy help arrived, and he was borne 
Far from the street, and seen by me no more. 

Then turning to the one whose kindly hand 
And gentler words had soothed the sufferer's pain, 
I saw the face that I had longed to see 
Amid the passing thousands on the street. 
Each lineament was strange, and yet I seemed 
To trace therein the features of a friend — 
Such friend as holds the living place within 
Our hearts, and in whose ears we pour 
The fullest measure of our hopes and fears ; — 
The clear, bright eyes suggesting confidence ; 
The firm-set lips that told of judgment ripe ; 
The ready smile, diffusing love and trust; 
And yet, withal, a sense of conscious power 
That awed me even as I ready grasped 
The hand he placed in mine. 

As thus we stood. 
The thoughts that sprang up in my bursting heart 



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Found eager speech, as though his calm, kind eyes 
Drew from my inmost thought each passing word ; 
And thus I spake : 

" BHnd mortals we, 
Who grope our way amid a fearful gloom, 
Through which no ray of light can penetrate. 
Ever at the mercy of some fearful powers, 
Unseen, that snap the brittle thread of life, 
E'en while each sense is active, and the blood 
Courses with vigor through the throbbing veins! 
Oh, that man's eyes were opened ; that he saw. 
As palpable as forms of matter are. 
The fearful powers that throng the sightless air 
And make sad havoc of our busy lives! " 

Thus spake I eagerly, the while I gazed 
In my companion's face, till from his look — 
Although he spake no word — I wisdom gained ; 
And feeling that I consciously addressed 
A being other than of mortal mould, 
I stammered, paused, and, kneeling at his feet, 
Encouraged by his gentle hand that still 
I held in mine, I pressed my wish — 
As knowing that he held the power to grant — 
That I might see and know the fearful forms 



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That stalk the street at noonday, and tear out 
From out the busy throng some wretched life. 

He, answering, said : 

"And thou would 'st look 
Upon these forms of ill?" 

"My master," cried I: 
" Dangers seen by man are easier escaped. 
Or grappled with conditions of success ; 
But evils hidden from the mortal sight. 
Evolved from the unseen powers of ill. 
Now hold humanity in awful thrall, 
From which no way of refuge can be found 
While here we blindly grope." 

"From whence arise these ills? 
"Master," I said, "I know not; save that He, 
Who orders all our lives as He thinks best. 
Sends sickness, death, and all the woes of men; 
And those who fall beneath His chastening rod 
Must needs be patient and submit 
In reverence to His will. 

And yet, — " 
But here I paused, until his gentle look 
Encouraged me to bare my inmost thought, — 
"And yet 'tis passing strange that He afflicts 
His creatures thus ; that He, whose hand 



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Sustains the universe and all that therein is, 
Should not these evils mark, and bid them cease : 
Then might the earth, redeemed from shame and sin 
And foul disease, set forth its Maker's praise 
In never-ceasing songs of gratitude!" 

I ceased, and looked up in my guardian's face, 
Which seemed to bear a trace of passing pain. 
A moment's space he looked into mine eyes, 
Then lightly touched my limbs, and said: 

" Arise! 
And come with me." 

Then, on the eager air 

At once upborne, 1 followed him in flight 

Far from the haunts of men. With vision clear 

I saw the earth spread out before my sight: 

Huge hills and mountain crests, whose snowy heights 

Reflected back the glowing morning sun, 

But yet disdained to yield their icy crowns 

At the warm bidding of the imperious orb. 

League after league of stately forests' shade 

Garnered rich moisture from the teeming clouds. 

And gently poured it to the vales below, 

Down which, with eager haste, the river bore 

Its vigorous course toward the ocean vast. 

And then, for countless miles, a broad expanse 

Of grassy verdure, from whose dainty blades 



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Myriads of creatures drew their daily food. 

And all encircled by the impulsive sea, 

From out whose breast the fierce, impassioned sun 

Drew moisture, for the waiting carrier clouds 

To bear on winged winds o'er hilly crests 

And thence pour down their burden to the earth. 

Which eagerly drinks in the generous flood. 

And still returns by spring, and stream, and brook, 

And mighty river, till, the circle formed. 

The waters seek again the absorbent sea. 

Then in our flight the Presence paused awhile. 
And gazed upon the scene ; thence slowly fell. 
Until we stood upon a mountain crest 
That far out-reached its fellows to the sky ; 
Down the steep slope we turned, and through a path 
Which lay through forest shades, until at length — 
No longer borne up by the Spirit's strength — 
I faltered, and, with weary feet, could scarce 
Accompany my guide. He turned, and marked 
My weary gait; then beckoned me to come 
To where, beneath his feet, a tiny spring 
Of water poured from out the teeming earth. 
The feath'ry wood-ferns 'round the little jet 
Bent low their fronds to catch its grateful spray. 
And hoary moss-grown stones enclosed a pool 



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From out whose sides the merry violet peeped 
Half coyly from its tiny nest of leaves. 

"Drink," said the Presence, gently; and I drank, 
And in my veins new vigor seemed to flow ; 
My fevered hand grew moist, the healthy glow 
Of vigorous life was felt in every pore. 
All sense of weariness and thirst and pain 
Beat quick retreat before that heaven-sent draught. 
"This is the gift of God," the Spirit said; 
" Drink deep, and gather strength; then let us mark 
How man receives His bounty." 

We followed down the hill the narrow thread, — 
So slight, a pebble turned it from its path, — 
Then marked it grow by tiny neighboring threads. 
Which gave their mite of tribute to its force, 
Till, as it impulse gained, it leaped and sprang 
From petty rock to rock ; and, gathering voice. 
Made music so entrancing, that the birds 
Who filled the air with sounds of revelry 
Drew near and dipped their eager beaks within. 
And drank new music from its silvery notes. 

Long ere it reached the base the stream had grown. 
By large accessions, to a torrent's flow, 

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Which dashed o'er boulders in its eager haste, 
And leaped from crag to crag with vigorous stride, 
Rejoicing to the earth. 

Thence, with calm strength 
It flowed in peaceful beauty through the vale. 
Or lingered in a shady nook to woo 
The dainty lily, which, with chalice white. 
Bent low its placid surface to caress ; 
The lofty trees drank in sweet sustenance. 
And myriad creatures from the leafy shades 
Came forth from its clear stream to draw new life. 
The flowers upon its banks arched o'er their heads, 
And tiny fish leaped from the silvery waves 
To snap at insects floating on its breast. 
Life-giver, life-preserver, on it moved, 
And the whole earth and all that it possessed 
Seemed to be glad, rejoicing in its flow. 

And as it passed, a hundred lesser streams 
Increased its volume, till it overspread 
A broad expanse, upon whose furrowed face 
The eddying currents of the air revolved. 
Tossing the water till it leaped in foam. 
And then sped onward o'er the sultry land. 
Bearing rich coolness to the festering town. 
Which faint appeared beneath the horizon's haze. 



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And then the river, narrowing twixt high cliffs, 
Rushed through a cafion with a torrent's speed, 
Lashing its sides with rage as on it dashed. 
And bearing down in its resistless force 
Earth-mass and rock, which furiously 
It tossed from point to point, or flung aside ; 
Or, dragging some tall tree from out its place, 
It tossed the gaunt shaft high in middle air 
And then again received it in its clutch. 
Forcing it deep beneath the swirling tide. 
There to be splintered, and to either bank 
In thousand fragments tossed. 

Then furiously 
From towering height the mighty stream 
Dashed down into a void with thunder loud. 
And veiled its fall in masses of white spray 
That glinted in the sun like myriad gems 
Of purest sheen. The thousand notes 
Of thousand tinkling streams here joined their tones, 
And one majestic chorus of the flood 
Drowned for a time the lesser harmonies : — 
''The floods lift up their voice; deep answers deep," 
And in one chorale of rich harmony 
Unite in praising God. 

Thus far, unchecked 
We watched the river's course, until it neared 



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The homes of men ; who, with mechanic skill 

Here curbed the river's force, and held in leash 

Its mighty power to serve their useful ends. 

Here from the rocky banks huge dams were stretched 

Which held the store of water till, in haste. 

Its guided strength was skilfully eked out 

To rush through narrow races to a wheel. 

O'er which it leaped in hot and eager haste 

To gain the freedom of the lower stream. 

But where the crowded homes of men were massed 
The river ceased to move in easy flow ; 
A thousand factories poured a noisome flood 
Of foul off-scourings and of poisoned waste, — 
And from each home a further tide of filth, — 
Till the clear stream grew turbid, rank, and foul. 
And crawled a sluggish course 'twixt slimy banks 
With rank, coarse herbage fringed. 

From town to town 
Which lined its banks it gathered fouler stains, 
Till it grew black and slimy, and the shores 
On either side were banks of festering mud. 
And drifting into sluggish pools, remained 
To hold its poisonous freight, till the hot sun 
Engendered from its waters evil forms ; 

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And every movement of its churlish waves 
Seemed to diffuse disease and death around. 

Then said my guide : 

"Behold!" and touched mine eyes. 
And from the festering slime on either bank 
I saw foul clouds of filth-conceived disease 
Arise, take shape, and with exulting wing 
Speed forth upon their errands of despair. 
Into the town they passed, and eager met 
Foul things that thronged its streets, where penned 
Humanity shut out God's light and air, 
And filled the void with pregnant forms of ill. 

Here stayed my guide, and bade me watch the throng 
Which moved with listless feet along the paths. 
Each face was seared with pain and anxious thought ; 
While on the breeze the clanging, solemn knell 
Tolled its harsh note of sorrow and of woe. 
The streets were crowded by the fearful shapes 
Engendered by the fetid river slime ; 
And as the people moved, with weary gait, 
The awful forms enveloped them around. 
And struck their deadly fangs within each breast. 
Foul fevers dogged their every step, and clutched 
With fiery hand a victim from the crowd. 

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And the whole town was filled with sounds of woe, 
Of mothers sobbing over children, torn 
From out their loving arms by ravening shapes ; 
Sons weeping over sires, and sires o'er sons, — 
And all was desolation and despair. 

But, as we neared a stately porch, we heard 
The sounds of worship, as the people knelt 
Beneath a high-arched dome to humbly pray. 
With reverent mien, that God would e'en avert 
This trouble from their homes. I saw the priest, 
In pure white robes, lift up his hands to Heaven 
Beseeching, in the tones of utter need, 
That God would have compassion on our race. 
Then from the thronged aisles he sought the street 
And passed into a house. We also came 
And stood within a chamber, where there lay 
One tossing with a fever, which had robbed 
His veins of blood, and poured a fiery flood 
Which fiercely burned the racking frame. 

Cracked lips and parched tongue — 
Mute witnesses of fire that raged within — 
Begged for a cooling draught in piteous tones ; 
And loving watchers gave to him, for drink, 
The water from the turbid river drawn. 



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Reeking with foul disease, as my new sight 
Revealed so plainly, and with such keen pain. 

I saw the priest approach, and kneeling down. 
Plead in the chamber that in this sore strait 
The hand of Heaven's mercy might be stretched 
To save the suffering brother from the grave. 
And then I saw him rise, and reach the bed, 
Bend o'er the sick one, and, in kindly tones 
Repeat : 

"It is the hand of God that chastens thee 
Be patient, my dear brother, and submit 
With reverence to His will." 

On this I spake, 
In eager answer to the well-known words : 

" What blasphemy is this, which charges God 
With man-created ills? His good hand 
Pours out its mercies' flood unsparingly ; 
It is the hand of man that slays thy friend ! 
Pray God for knowledge ; but, for shame, forbear 
To charge on Heaven the evil thou hast seen!" 

Thus spake I, heedless that my eager words 
Were lost upon his ear; as I, invisible, 



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And all unknown was there. 

Then turning to my guide, 
I saw a smile o'erspread his kindly face; 
And, to my eager look, he answer gave: 

"Why blame this mortal that he here repeats. 
In form of consolation, thine own words? 
Didst thou not charge my Master with the ills 
Of foul disease that so afflict this world? 
Thou seest, now, how man afflicts his kind. 
And feebly storms the gate of heaven with prayer. 
Begging deliverance from his own right hand! " 

"But," said I, trembling: "Master, I have learned, 
By thy good guidance, whence these ills arise; 
Yet know I, also, that the awful woe 
Which wraps this town in gloom and misery, 
Is fearful penalty for lack of wit. 
Is it through Death we learn to live aright? 
And -from its dreadful touch must man derive 
The painful knowledge of his ignorance? " 

He answered : 

" Still the tree of light and life 
Is sentinelled by seraphim, who guard 
Its treasures from the feeble grasp of man. 



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Yet man shall have dominion over earth ; 

And though rank after rank shall mangled fall, — 

As those who storm a fortress count on loss 

Of numbers in the newly practised breach, — 

Yet in the end the knowledge shall be gained, 

And the high Citadel of Light and Life 

Shall yield its treasures to man's veteran hand. 

This thou mayst know. But let us now go hence, 

And watch man's messengers of ill at work." 

Once more he touched mine eyes, and I beheld 
A group of children at their merry play. 
The bloom of health was on each rosy cheek ; 
The happy laughter from their pure young lips 
Rose on the morning breeze and filled the air. 
The sun's bright rays, reflected in their eyes, 
Seemed dancing with the merry rogues' delight, 
As when a winsome lad would eager speed 
To play some merry prank on his boy mate 
And bound with happy laughter far away 
From the opposing hand. And, as I looked, 
I inwardly thanked Heaven for these great gifts 
The Father God confers on father man. 

But as they passed a point, a gruesome form, 
Engendered from the foul miasma, rose 



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BY MAN CAME DEATH. 2t 



And clasped them round about. With fearful claw 
It aimed a blow at each expanded throat, 
As though to strike. And I would fain 
Have grappled with the fearful shape, to save 
The smiling crowd of happy youth from ill, 
But that my guide restrained. 

"Fear not, " 
He said: "But mark how these escape." 
Then, as the joyous troop dashed heedless by, 
I breathed secure. 

Anon another came, — 
A bright-eyed boy, held by his father's hand ; — 
And I, no longer fearing, watched their course, 
Saying : 

"Held by his father's hand, he will be safe." 

I heard the boy repeat a merry tale ; the father proud 
Bent low to listen to the voice, whose tones, 
To him, were as the music of the spheres. 
I saw the parent's holy love and pride 
Reflected in the mirror of his face. 
And sire and son seemed one in love and care. 
Yet, as they neared the shape, the foul thing rose 
And clasped the pretty throat of that fair boy — 
E'en in his father's hand. I saw him start and gasp, 

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And heard the father's cry, as the pale face 
Of the affrighted child was raised to his. 
And then I heard the words of love and care 
Soothe the dear boy, till, with caress and smile. 
The roses slightly tinged the lips again. 
And the lad whispered : 

"Take, oh! take me home, 
For I am hot and faint!" Then, tenderly, 
I saw the father raise and kiss the lips 
And bid him cheer; but, natheless, with fast feet. 
He hurried for the help that should relieve 
His darling's hurt. 

And then I groaned and cried: 
"Why is this child — so guarded and caressed — 
The chosen victim of such shape as this? 
If pride and care be naught ; if father love 
May not the children shield, as well to have 
The foulest homes and brutalizing lives. 
Which bring forth brutal lives to fill the street. 
Growing in moral filth, amid the cursed 
Environment of shame and hate and sin. 
Look ye around: see, grovelling in the mire. 
With outstretched dirty palm and beggar whine, 
A puny, sickly child disturbs the peace, 
Asking for alms, which, in some filthy den, 

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BY MAN CAME DEATH. 23 

Shall yield for drunken dame or brutal sire 
The means to gratify their foul intent. 
Or, here another, on whose childish face 
The stamp of poisoned lineage is impressed ; 
Foul humors riot in its blood, and mar, 
By outward sores, all semblance to its race. 
Or, yet another, whose neglected frame 
Shows mark of brutal poverty, which springs 
From crime and every ill that mars the soul. 
See how the infant's eyes grow keen with lust 
Of covetous desire, — the eager hand is stretched 
To steal, and the swift, wary feet 
Hie with the spoil of theft to win the praise 
Of human vampires, who would drain the blood 
From out the feeble frame of this poor child 
So that they may their worthless lives prolong. - 
Or, yet, see these — whose haggard, wasted eyes 
Tell piteous tales of gnawing hunger's pain — 
Who dare not steal, of begging are ashamed. 
And so must crouch in some dark hole, and pray 
For death to come and ease them of their pain : 
Yet these must live! And love and pride and care 
Of offspring find no better prize than death, 
At will of fearful shapes that haunt our streets 
And snatch the child from out the parent's arms!" 



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24 


BY MAN CAME DEATH. 


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The 


Spirit sadly gazed upon my face, 










Yet 


answered naught. 

Again he touched mine eyes ; 










I saw the child now lying on a snowy bed, 










Yet 


not a whit more white than his pale face 










On ^ 


kvhich the parents' tearful gaze was bent, 










Seeking if haply they might see a change — 










Some other than of ceaseless gnawing pain, 










That 


slowly burned the little life away. 










The 


mother sits and holds one hand in hers; 










The 


father kneels, with head pressed in his hands, 










As i 


E he feared to look upon the face 










So soon to pass forever from his gaze. 










And 


all the sad despair that comes to those 










Who 


fight for days and nights with dread disease, — 










And 


see their efforts vain, — was marked on them, 










Who 


saw their darling passing from their arms, 










And 


knew all hope had passed. 

The dying child 










Lay 


white and still, as if the life had fled. 










And 


the oppressive silence of the room 










Was 


broken only by the bitter groan 










And 


stifled sob of those who marked the end. 






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The Spirit paused awhile, and held the scene 

A moment in his eye. His face was still, 

As if no scene of human woe could cause 

A ripple of emotion to o'erspread 

His features calm. Until at length I spoke, 

Unable longer to repress the flood 

Of rising anger, that the awful sight 

Of useless care and bitter, bitter loss 

Could raise no cloud within the impassive eyes 

That looked so coldly on. 

"O, Spirit," said I; "If that I possessed 
Such power as thine, how quickly I would fly, 
And from the lily throat of that fair child 
Unloose the deadly fangs that wreck its life" 
Whereat the Presence turned its face to me, 
And a sweet, pitying smile was in the look: 

"I have no power to stay the course of Death, 
Nor has Death power, save by deputed will ; 
And only He who gave the mortal life 
Can stay its flight." 

"And will not He," I cried: 
"He — Giver of all good, and Lord of life, 
Of infinite compassion, and of love 

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Preeminent — regard the parent's cry? 

Oh, if a mortal's hand might dare to drag 

Heaven's high prerogative to earth, what woe. 

And what heart breaks and suffering might be saved! 

What griefs unnumbered might be spared the world!" 

A shade of sorrow passed upon his face : 
"Poor mortal! Ever like thy feeble race, 
Not knowing thine own power to save the world ! 
Yet ever seeking for the higher power 
Which the Omnipotent alone can own. 
And thou would'st stay the kindly course of Death ; 
And to what end?" 

"Oh, pardon me," I cried; 
" Forgive the words presumptuous that fall 
From lips unused to speech with such as thee ! 
Were such dominion mine, I would but seek 
That budding lives, which hold within their folds 
The hope of our poor race, might yield full fruit. 
Why should the children die? The leafy branches fade. 
And leave the scarred trunks of worn-out lives 
To mock the world with promise of rich fruit 
It sorely needs, yet never can obtain! 
Who knows, but in this childish form now stretched 
Awaiting death, some CHRiST-life is enshrined ; 
He who might save man from his own device ; 



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Be a redeemer of the human race 

From all the deadly forms mine eyes have seen ; 

Preach new evangels of health-giving creeds, 

To bless, redeem, and purify the earth. 

And make it smile with gladness. 

The world is one vast grave. 
And hearts are daily aching with the loss 
Of such as these, on whom fond friends have poured 
The lavish treasuries of human love ! 
Who knows but this fair child, if life be given. 
Might seek out Nature in her inmost cells. 
And find new force to hold the rest in sway; 
Curb the rude storm, and smooth the raging sea, 
Or bind the varying currents of the air 
In harness, at the bidding of his will? 
Nay, if alone this child shall live to bless 
These stricken hearts, to grow in grace with years. 
To soothe the lives of those who watch his end. 
And gendy close their eyes when comes the time 
Their ripened lives shall call the Reaper forth. 
Oh, life means all of this, or more ; let him not die, 
Or give me power to call him back again!" 

With sweet compassion beaming in his eyes, 
My guiding Spirit thus to me replied: 



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" 'T is written: ' When' the golden grain is ripe. 
The Lord of harvest thrusts His sickle in 
Immediately, and garners it for Heaven.' 
And He, who knoweth all things, knoweth best 
What time the yielding harvest waits His hand. 
I only know and trust His just decrees ; 
And, knowing these, I know no youth or age, 
Nor measure of a mortal span of years." 

He ceased ; and, looking in his face, I saw 
His eyes no longer resting on my own ; 
But a bright light that came, I knew not whence. 
Bathed every lineament and line and curve 
With radiance wonderful. And e'en as one 
Is dazzled by the glowing rays of noon. 
Mine eyes no longer could endure the light 
Of this transfiguration. He sealed my lips. 
Then bade me kneel, and humbly knelt himself, 
As if within that lowly chamber's space 
A mightier Presence than his own appeared. 
To whom he reverence paid. And I, 
Bent low my head with awe and reverence, — 
To what, I knew not. 

But yet again my sight 
Was strengthened by my guardian's pitying hand ; 



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And, looking on the snowy couch, I saw 

The brightness mirrored in the child's pale face. 

The lips were parted, as if speech were made, 

Yet sound he uttered none ; the bright eyes gleamed 

More brightly, being radiantly filled 

With lustre wondrous, e'en amidst that light 

On which he fearless gazed. The small right arm 

Was raised toward the spot whence streamed the beams, 

The index finger pointing to the skies ; 

And every feature of the pain-worn face 

Was smoothed and lustrous in the wondrous sheen. 

I heard the father groan, 

" My son! my son! " 
And, like the poet-king of old, repeat 
The bitter cry of unavailing love : 
"Would I could die for thee, my son, my son!" 
I saw him clasp one little hand in his 
And kiss it, while the bitter, burning tear. 
Unheeded, poured adown his furrowed cheek. 
I saw the mother's tearless, awe-full face. 
White with the gnawing grief that strains 
The heart's deep chords, but finds no vent in tears. 
But still the child's eyes shone with sweet content. 
And a sweet smile of radiant beauty played 
Around the rosy lips ; till, looking down, 



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He saw his mother's agonizing gaze. 

She, prompt to meet his eye, spake readily: 

"My child, what vision blest appears 
Before your eager sight?" 

The child replied: 
"The gates of Heaven are opening wide for me, 
And two of God's own messengers await 
To bear me to my home. I cannot stay; 
But you to me may come. And I can see 
Christ's loving arms to me extended wide. 
As when he bade the little children come 
To his Divine embrace. O father! " 

And he placed 
His little hand upon his father's head. 
And blest him, as he knelt. With words of love 
And gifts of all his store, he prayed 
Remembrance of his sisters. And then he spake, 
Not as a child, with halt and lisping speech. 
But with clear words of love and reverence. 
And of the wisest counsel and advice, — 
Such as might fitly fall from lips of saint 
Whose ripened life exhales in words of hope, 
Of age- worn counsel, and of pious thought ; — 
Exhorting, cheering; yet, with insight keen. 



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Admonishing of faults which stood revealed 

E'en through the father's love. And then he blessed 

His mother, as she knelt, commending her 

To love of husband and of children left. 

He ceased, and for a moment stillness reigned ; 
Then turned he once more to the streaming light, 
And with clasped hands and bowed head he prayed — 
The old-time prayer of children's even-tide — 
That he might find a place within the realm 
Of Him whose arms he saw extended wide ; 
Then lay and sweetly yielded up his breath. 
And with the resurrection angels joined. 

Now, through the lingering echoes of the words 
The child had said, there came into my heart, 
As run the chords of some sweet harmony 
Through loftier tones of fullest choral force : 
" 'T is written, when the golden grain is ripe 
The Lord of harvest thrusts His sickle in 
And garners it for for Heaven," — and here I saw 
The rich maturity of ripened life 
Shine through the heart, and touch the little lips 
As with a burning coal from out the fires 
Of God's high altar. And so I prayed 
Forgiveness of my guide that I had sought, 

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With pitiful presumption, to avert 
This fair child's death. 

He turned, and looked 
Upon me, as in doubt ; as if in vain 
He sought to fathom the poor aims of those 
Who speak in haste and hastily repent. 

"Why, then, this change? Ere now with tearful eyes 
You sought a life it was not mine to give ; 
Now that the power to me — for you — is given 
Repent not of the wish so urgent pressed: 
Draw near; stretch forth thy strong right hand — 
Clothed now with power few mortals have possessed — 
Take this child's hand in thine ; bid him arise, 
And place him in his mother's arms once more." 

Then for a space, forgetting my last prayer, 
But quickened with a sense of mighty power, — 
I eager moved, and stretched forth my hand ; 
But, ere I reached the bed, retraced my step. 
And eager asked: 

' ' To what life-course 
Shall I recall this child?" 



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He, answering, said: 
' ' Thou knowest well ; to face disease and pain ; 
To wrestle with the deadly shapes of sin ; 
To fight ; be wounded sore ; mayhap, to die 
A death more deadly than the severed life 
Which thou hast seen. Draw near, and bid him live!" 

Again I forward pressed ; . again retraced 
My lingering step, and, pleading, put again 
My heart's desire: 

" Perchance, if life 
In this fair tenement again shall reign, 
The child may live to be a source of good, 
To wrestle manfully with forms of ill. 
To bless, redeem, and magnify his race?" 

The Spirit said: 

"Had I, a short time since, 
This favor giv'n, no languor hadst thou shown: 
Draw near ; one word from thee shall raise him up 
To life, and to his parents' arms again. 
To what end he shall live I cannot tell. 
Nor is it thine to seek. Waste not thy gift: 
The mighty power you sought to conquer Death; 
See how the face assumes a marble hue ; 
Watch the limbs stiffen and the little hands — 



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Which yet the father holds within his own 

As if he Gould not yield them to the grave, 

E'en while they rigid grow within his grasp; 

Draw near, and quicken these cold veins again ; 

Bid the closed eyes kindle anew with light, 

The lips be parted with a boyish smile ; 

The clammy hand grow warm ; the flush of health 

Once more encrimson that fast-marbling cheek — 

And see him spring into his mother's arms 

As frolicsome as in the days long by! 

Bid her tears cease to flow ; smooth out the lines 

Of bitter care the last few days have seared 

Upon the father's brow; — Bid his son live! " 

Thus tempting me, the Spirit urged me sore. 
Until at length I spake: 

"Take back thy boon 
And give me peace. I cannot bid him live 
To battle with disease and care and pain ; — 
I dare not call him back! " 

" Yet life is sweet," 
The Spirit said: "To him may come the joys 
Of mother-love and fond solicitude ; 
The glowing energies of youth and hope ; 
The lofty aims of manhood, and the loves 



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Of wife and children, — all may yet be his. 
And then, the peaceful autumn-glow of life, 
And sacred rest that crowns a noble life : — 
Bid this child Hve again! " 

Then fell I on my knees, 
And, weeping, said : 

"Take back thy boon. 
Nor tempt me longer to usurp a power 
Which mortals may not use. His eyes have seen 
The glory of the realms where perfect love, 
Unshadowed by the clouds of earthly life 
Forever reign. His ears have heard the sounds 
Which mortals may not hear and live on earth ; 
He, borne by angel messengers, has passed 
Within the gate where tears are never known. 
Where sin and death ne'er come, and where the soul 
Freed from all earthly taint, shall, aye, expand 
And grow more lovely in its native air. 
Nor, while the memory of his last hour 
Shall reign within the parents' hearts, can he 
Cease e'en to live on earth. The hand upraised 
To them shall point to joys which make 
This earth a paradise, and Heaven to them 
A store-house for rich treasures of the heart. 
His words, which bore the impress of the height 

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To which his soul attained, shall be the aim 
And inspiration of their lives. And he shall live 
In garnered souls that follow in his train. 

Take back thy gift! nor tempt me more to rob 
The Master's crown of one of its rich gems. 
See how remembrance of the loving words, 
Which from these cold lips fell, lights up the eyes 
And brightens up the father's stricken face! 
See how the mother treasures up the words. 
And, kneeling, praises God that He has deigned 
To come into her humble home, and bless 
The child she fondly loved. 

Nay, God forbid that I 
Should end a life new-born; — for, surely, here is birth. 
A cloud has closed the petals of a flower. 
And passed ; and the renewing sun 
Has wooed the tender plant to raise its eye. 
And bathe in brighter light! — I cannot bid him live! " 

And, saying this, I fell, as one from whom 
All force of conscious will had surely fled ; 
The while, within that lowly chamber's bound. 
The viewless ministers of peace were massed. 
Whose gentle mission softened care and grief 



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With kindly thoughts that found the sufferer's heart, 
And brought the smile of hope upon the face ; 
While faintly borne, as from a distant shore. 
Still lingered in my ears the soothing notes : 

To the Father's love we trust, 

That which was enshrined in dust ; 

While we give this earth to earth 
Finds the soul its second birth. 

Life, henceforth, shall have a ray 

Kindled ne'er to pass away, 
And a light from angel eyes 

Draws us upward to the skies. 

Borne in sweet melody, whose gentle tones 
Refreshed my fro ward and perturbed mind, 
As a life-quickening draught that lulls all pain ; 
And I awoke, to love, and trust, and faith. 




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